


So Much For Normal

by SabertoothKai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angelic Grace, Bottom Castiel, Dean and Feelings, Dean and Romantic/Sexual Orientation, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam and Feelings, Top Dean, Wing Kink, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabertoothKai/pseuds/SabertoothKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam convinces Cas to erase Dean's memory so that he can live a normal life with Lisa and Ben, but two years into his normal life Dean can't deny that something is missing. He feels incomplete, and after getting drunk at a bar one night he ends up at a crossroads. </p>
<p>It just so happens that Dean won't have to sell his soul to find what it is that he's missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doing What's Best

It'd been just over two years since Sam had talked Castiel into erasing his brother's memories and parted ways with the man, leaving him to live the life he could only have dreamt of as a hunter. It'd been over two entire years since Sam and Dean had worked a case together, and it'd been over two years since they'd spoken in person. In a way it was sad, but, after Castiel had erased Dean's memories, the two brothers had taken completely separate paths in life. Sam had continued hunting like before, crisscrossing the country and taking out monsters, while Dean... Well, Dean had moved in with his girlfriend -Lisa Braeden- and her son Ben. It was what Sam had wanted, and, even though he missed his brother, he was glad that the man was happy.

 

\-----

 

Back when Sam had originally brought up the idea (to erase his brother's memories of hunting) with Castiel the angel had been against it. He had been completely and utterly unwilling to alter Dean's mind without consent, and he had argued that doing something like that would be a betrayal. The seraph had refused to do anything to Dean that would be viewed as disloyal or make him untrustworthy; he'd refused to do anything that could harm his relationship with the hunter, and he'd stuck with that argument for a while. 

However, after watching the older Winchester spending his time with Ben and Lisa, and after seeing how happy those two made the man, Castiel had changed his mind and obliged, wanting the man -one of his two only true friends- to live a nice, normal, happy life. The angel had wanted to let Dean have the ideal family he’d always imagined as a child, and Lisa and Ben were exactly that. With them Dean could have a taste of normality. 

 

\-----

 

The angel had always known that hunting only made Dean's life worse, after all. He'd had something -not something he could name, but something- with the man for a matter of years, so he'd always been able to pick up on those kinds of things. Plus, after Dean had helped him out so many times in the past, Castiel felt that he owed the hunter, and he wanted to help out in any possible way he could; he wanted to see the man smile, and to repay him for all of the things he'd done by simply letting him be happy. 

Happiness was all that Castiel wanted his friend to have, because, in the past, Dean had let him know just how difficult life as a hunter was. In the past, in private, Dean had talked to Castiel about topics he wouldn't even brush up against with other people; he'd spilled his darkest secrets to the angel; let out his deepest regrets; his worst fears, and he'd told Castiel just how much he wanted to have a different, normal life. It had been the memories of those conversations that solidified the seraph's reasoning, and, while the angel would never tell any of this to Sam (even after erasing Dean's memories), those talks were the real reason he'd changed his mind.

It certainly wasn't something that the seraph could explain to Sam, because, surely, the man would be hurt by the fact that Dean had opened up to the angel after only a few years of knowing him, rather than trusting the sibling he'd known his entire life, but those talks had been what had truly convinced Castiel to erase Dean's memories.

 

\-----

 

Sam had suggested that Dean quit the life months before Castiel had even been brought into the situation, and the man had, of course, rejected the offer. Dean had refused to stay with the single mother and her child despite caring deeply for them both, and it honestly hadn't come as much of a shock to the younger brother. Sam had had not only expected Dean to turn down the offer, but he'd anticipated it, so he'd prepared to have one of his one-on-one talks with the man, and, during that talk, Sam had explained that he understood why Dean had refused the offer; he'd explained that, considering the man was a born and raised hunter, it made sense. He'd explained that he knew his brother had only ever been taught to hunt the bad and save the good, so he'd tried to help Dean see that sometimes being a little bit selfish was okay.

The talk, of course, hadn't worked. It was completely natural for Dean to chose the lives of others' over his own. He wasn't brought up to put his needs first; wasn't brought up to set out to do what he wanted in life, or even to make goals. Sam, however, had known that life for a very short period of time. 

Sam had been on his own for a few years, fallen in love, and planned a future. Of course, that had all been destroyed when Jess had been murdered by the same demon that had killed their mother, but, even though Sam was back in the life, and even though he was happy with it, the man couldn't help but want Dean to have a taste of normality as well. He simply wanted Dean to be happy, so he'd prayed that Cas could help him, and the angel had shown himself almost immediately, just like he always did when it was Sam or Dean asking for help.

 

\-----

 

Sam knew the angel had a deep connection with Dean (Hell, he'd raised the man  _ from  _ Hell), so he'd plead a very strong case, knowing that Castiel would want what was best for his brother as well. He’s spent his time working Castiel over, and, after a handful of doubtful questions and kicked puppy looks, the angel had agreed, deciding that Dean should have a chance at being normal for once and vowing to keep him safe.

 

\-----

 

Of course, with the subject being Dean Winchester, and with Dean having multiple races -demon, god, and monster- out to get him, protecting the man hadn’t been the easiest thing to do. After word had gotten out that the hunter had settled down with a woman and child, a steady flow of monsters and demons had begun staking out the man's home and family. Castiel had always kept a close eye on the happy couple, though, and he'd always told Sam when he'd be away so that the hunter could take his place when he was gone.

So, for the past two years Castiel and Sam had taken their turns watching over Dean, keeping a distance but making sure that he was safe (together the two had probably taken out about thirty demons that wanted to get their hands on Dean). 

After some time, though, Sam had backed off on the job of protecting his brother and gone back to hunting creatures all across the country, leaving the angel to do it alone, and Castiel had figured, at first, that it was just because he missed the man so much that he'd shied away from the spying, but, perhaps it was something else, something more, that the younger brother had sensed.

After all, he and Sam both knew that Dean had started to drink much more often, and that he and Lisa would often argue over trivial things. It was only later that Castiel realized perhaps Sam was regretting his choice; only later that he realized that Sam wished he could go back to having his brother by his side. Of course, there was no going back, though; the memories were gone and both angel and hunter would have to deal with it. All Castiel could do was give Sam some space for a while.


	2. Don't Trust Strangers

  

Dean Winchester was very happy with his life at the moment, but he felt as if something was wrong with the picture of him settling down with such a beautiful family. He couldn't put his finger on it, but if felt like part of him was missing, and like he should be doing something more with his life. The feeling had always made him anxious, but no matter what the man did he could not find the source of it, so he'd ended up locking the feeling away and continuing to act as the father-figure for Lisa's son Benjamin.

 

Dean had had a rough up-bringing, losing his mother in a house fire as a child and then losing his father to liver failure years later after a long fight with alcoholism. He'd always had his little brother Sam to care for, though; he still had family, and he'd had his uncle Bobby (though the man wasn't related by blood).

 

Dean had always traveled for his father's work as he'd grown up, so he'd never had friends or connections other than his little bro. Somehow, though, fate had blessed him and brought him back to one of his best, albeit short, relationships from high-school. Somehow, despite the high likelihood of never seeing the woman again after parting ways with her, Dean and Lisa had ended up together a full ten years later, living happily-ever-after in a nice middle-class house with their kid.

 

He'd run into Lisa about two years back when he was traveling cross-country with his brother, who had decided to take a break from college and his law degree for some good 'ol family fun. After meeting her again so suddenly and rekindling the spark they'd once had, Dean had talked to Sam and decided to settle down with Lisa and Ben rather than continuing the road-trip.

 

Sam had been fine with it, and he'd actually encouraged his brother to live his life and find someone who made him happy, but soon after the man had decided to part ways with his brother he'd started to feel that something was wrong.

 

Sure, Dean loved Lisa, and Ben was like his own blood, so he had no reason to feel so at loss. Even without reason, though, Dean felt like he should be doing something more. He felt like he was missing a piece of himself (or perhaps pieces), but couldn't quite figure out what the problem was. So, after burying the feeling of incompleteness for a year the ex-hunter turned husband had finally decided to figure out what it was that was bothering him so much.

 

The man had ended up, or rather, started, in the library, logged on to one of the computers lined up against the far wall. Dean started researching his family, because whenever he'd tried to figure out what was wrong in the past he'd always circled back to it; he'd always had a feeling that something about his life (and the people in his life) just wasn't what he'd believed it to be. A lot of what he found out he already knew; his mother had died in a tragic house fire when Sam was six months old, and his father had died a few years ago from heavy alcohol abuse. After some more digging, he did, however, find some things that piqued his curiosity. For instance, after his mother had died John had a relationship with a new woman, and they'd had a child named Adam.

 

Dean hadn't known that. He thought it was just him and Sam, but apparently that wasn't the case, because a few states over they had a completely normal, non-hunter (this was obvious by the family house), step brother. He'd also found an article on Sam's girlfriend Jess, who had also died in a house fire. Sam had been a suspect at the time, but there was no real evidence, so he'd been let go. Dean had remembered Jessica passing, but he hadn't known the details on how it had happened, and he'd never had any clue that his brother had been suspected.

 

The information got even more interesting when Dean dug deeper, because he found a file on himself; a criminal history file, and it wasn't filled with any minor offenses; it was all the big stuff.

 

Dean had been suspected of a murder St. Louis, Missouri three years ago. Actually, he hadn't just been suspected. There was proof that he had done it, but the case had closed after they found him dead at one of the crime scenes.

 

Of course, this information left Dean reeling. He'd never killed a person in his life (something inside of him specified that he'd not killed a person)! He'd never died! No person could come back from the dead, so it was just completely impossible, yet Dean could find no evidence of another sibling (possibly a twin) committing the crime. After researching the first case for a while he'd decided that somebody had tampered with his file, so he moved on.

 

Next on the list was a bank robbery, a heist, and despite having no memory of the occasion, Dean had managed to find a video of him (and his brother) holding up a bank. There had been causalities, but he and Sam had both escaped after mugging two members of the swat team and stealing their uniforms.

 

Damn. There was no way this shit was real.

 

After a long day of reading crazy articles that made zero sense, Dean had gone out for a drink. He'd just wanted to escape everything that he was feeling, and alcohol was the best way to do it. He needed to get drunk so that he could stop over-analyzing what he'd read over the last couple of hours. The man's head was throbbing from all of the information, and he'd been able to find out that it was all legitimate. Dean Winchester had been suspected of murder, died, and the come back and held up a bank with his accomplice Sam Winchester.

 

None of it made any sense, but the files weren't tampered with.

 

After downing way too many shots a stranger had slipped onto the stool beside him and ordered him a drink. Dean had accepted, but was too out-of-sorts to hold much of a conversation (or to really think at all). He hadn't even bothered to look at the person, since his head felt like it was filled with a mixture of lead and cotton and was still throbbing dully after the hours of research.

 

After some silence and another downed glass of alcohol, the stranger had spoken. Dean could remember she had a seductive voice and was quite charming, and the man wondered for a moment if the problem could lie within his sex-life. He'd ruled that out quickly, though, and just listened to the woman.

 

She'd started off with light conversation, talking about her family and her job, but eventually she'd asked Dean what exactly it was that was bothering him, and she'd pointed out that no man with 'nothing wrong' would be sitting by himself at a bar downing shot after shot after Dean had denied having any issues. After that the man had slowly opened up to her, spilling his troubles just to get them off of his shoulders and enjoying the bliss induced by his alcohol consumption. This woman had asked what was wrong, anyways, and she'd absolutely insisted, so if it was too much for her she'd just have to suck it up anyways.

 

It honestly felt good to get all of it off of his chest. It felt good to admit that he missed his brother and that he didn't feel right with Lisa and Ben, and it felt good to know that this woman had no way to use his problems against him. While Dean didn't mention any of the things he'd been reading up on, talking about it still made him feel better.

 

The woman opened up to him a bit too, talking about what an asshole her boss was and how he made her want to go jump off a bridge. The two had shared a few laughs and a few more drinks before getting up to part ways after nearly five hours at the bar. It was only then that she had stopped and given Dean a serious look, cooing in a soft voice that she knew a way to fix all of his problems.

 

After sending the woman into a fit of laughter by saying he had a wife she'd further explained that what she was talking about was not a night of kinky sex, but actually a deal with a demon, and that: that was how Dean ended up at the crossroads just outside of town.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first two chapters are just sort of setting the grounds for the story, which is why they're so short. They'll be longer starting soon!


	3. Saved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is gonna be somewhat slow because I am currently spending my free time watching TWD, Spn, and criminal Minds. Basically I wrote this chapter in the 20 minutes I had before taking a test. R.I.P me.

Last Dean had checked it'd been around two in the morning, but it had been some time since then, so it was probably three or four now. The ex-hunter sat in his flashy 67 Impala and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, singing along to one of his favorite albums and bobbing his head with the beat. Dean was much too drunk to be driving, but this road was completely abandoned, so he figured it was no big deal as long as he was careful not to hit any telephone poles. He'd pulled off to the side after a while, stepping on the break and letting out a breath, the alcohol in his system numbing him.

 

His mind replayed the woman's words over and over again, drowning out the music, and the man couldn't help but wonder why he was doing something he didn't even believe would work. He was hammered. That was it; he was drunk off his fucking rocker and was only doing this to prove that it wouldn't work. Only, deep down Dean knew it _would_ work, and something inside of him was screaming at him not to do it.

 

The brunet groaned under his breath and jabbed the radio button with his finger, abruptly stopping the music and pulling the keys from the ignition. The man let out another breath and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes, his entire body still insisting that this was a _very_ bad idea.

 

However, being Dean, and being someone who never listened to reason, he chose to ignore it, and he threw open his car door, stepping out and ending up clinging tightly onto the Impala in order to steady himself and keep his dinner (alcohol) down.

 

Dean hadn't been this drunk since, well, since he'd been with Sam (damn he missed that giant puppy), and that had been years ago. His body wasn't used to such a large intake anymore, and it threatened to come back up with the same, if not more, burn than it'd had going down. Waiting for the nausea to pass, the ex-hunter leaned up against his car, resting his cheek against the cool exterior and scrunching his eyes closed to stop his world from continuing to spin. He waited for a couple of minutes, or 30 -he couldn't tell- before opening his eyes and standing up straight, looking out over the horizon.

 

The sun was starting to rise now, and the darkness of the night was receding quickly, so Dean set to his task, grabbing some items from the trunk of the car. After speaking with the woman about what he'd need to summon the demon Dean had spent some time gathering the items for this spell -and some of the necessities were absolutely repulsive-.

 

Dean grabbed his spare identification card from his wallet, a small bottle of dirt (from a graveyard), and the bone of a black cat, locking them into a small wooden box along with some ugly yellow flowers. The cat's bone had been hardest to find, since the woman had buried the poor creature after killing it, but after digging in a few different spots the ex-hunter found what he was searching for, and he was relieved that the cat didn't need to die by his hands.

 

The man promptly checked for any other vehicles on the road and padded across the gravel, the soles of his leather boots scraping against the rocks as he crossed. The man stopped and stooped down in the middle of the empty intersection, stumbling slightly in his drunken haze but managing to stay upright. Then, with a shaking hand, Dean began digging a hole in the ground, clearing out any of the gravel that fell in and checking to see if the hole was deep enough. When he was sure that it was, Dean carefully placed the box into the crater.

 

Then he covered it up and stood, dusting off his hands as a soft voice came from behind him. Dean turned and faced the woman, somewhat shocked by just how quickly she had appeared, and part of him was completely shocked that the spell had worked at all (though 90% of his mind was telling him it'd work the entire time).

 

“Oh?” The demon's eyebrows shot up, and a smile formed on her thin lips. “If it isn't Dean Winchester, himself.” She cooed, twirling a finger in her silky blond hair and batting her eyes, giving the ex-hunter a glance at the black that proved she was a demon. “Changed your mind on hunting, have we?” The blond paused and dropped her hand to her waist, resting it on her hip. “It's been a while since you've had a kill, after all. I'm sure you missed it.” The demon smiled a dazzling smile, her blue eyes and thin hips complimented by the short black dress she wore.

 

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, thrown off by how well she seemed to know him. “Excuse me? We've never met.” He muttered in a rough voice, lifting his chin and cocking an eyebrow as he looked down at the woman. Dean was sure he didn't know this woman, this demon. His body was telling him he'd never met her, and he decided to trust it after ignoring it and casting the spell.

 

Honestly, had Dean not been dead drunk, he'd probably have been a bit more surprised, but, hey, he'd already learned that he was a dead-murderer-walking that day, so why not just add 'demons exist' to that list?

 

The soft voice of the woman brought the man out of his head. “That's true, but there isn't a demon in Hell who doesn't know the name Dean Winchester. You're famous, you know? You and that brother of yours have killed off hundreds of us, but you wouldn't know about any of that, would you?”

 

Dean was definitely confused. He and he brother had killed demons? Hundreds of demons? So he wasn't only a murderer and a thief, but he killed the spawns of Satan? Riiiight. That _totally_ sounded like him and Sam. “You're lying.” He accused, narrowing his eyes and reaching into his pocket for the small pocket knife he always carried with him. The demon took a step back at the movement, knowing Dean only as a hunter, and a damned good one too.

 

“Don't know why I'd lie about that! You've murdered countless of us. Just ask your brother if you're having trouble remembering!” She growls, her eyes once again flashing black as she raised a hand towards Dean and tosses him back against the Impala with enough force to smash the windshield. The man was going to have to pay money he didn't have to fix that later, because he was sure his boss wouldn't let him use any parts from the auto-shop for free.

 

Dean groaned as his head smashed into a metal, and he could feel the blood start dripping down his nape as he slumped against the car. Now, with his head spinning less from being somewhat drunk and more from the major concussion he'd just gotten, the man pulled the small blade from his pocket, his knuckles whitening from how tightly he gripped the thing. Dean bit his lip and propped himself up against the hood, using his elbow for leverage. “I swear to god that you will _not_ get away with hurtin' Baby.” He growled, sliding forward and getting back onto his feet despite the injuries he'd just sustained.

 

Dean wiped his hand over his neck to see how badly he was bleeding. Luckily, it wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought it'd be, so he wouldn't die from it before he was able to get to the hospital. Dean realized that he'd made a mistake by summoning this demon; she knew who he was and she obviously wanted him dead. The only way the ex-hunter could think of getting away was killing the bitch before driving to the hospital, so he darted at her and plunged the blade into her chest.

 

The demon's eyes widened for a moment. She hadn't expected Dean to run at her like that, but after a moment she looked up at the man and grinned, chuckling softly and putting her hand over Dean's.

 

Taken aback, Dean's grip on the blade faltered, and he stumbled back.

 

“Stainless steel? Really?” She asked, raising a perfectly plucked blond eyebrow and grabbing Dean's blade and withdrawing it from her chest, blood dripping down the metal but not from the wound, which Dean saw had completely vanished.

 

The man's eyes widened. That should have killed her! He just stabbed her in the fucking heart, so why was she still talking? Why was she _laughing_? The ex-hunter stumbled again as she pushed him, and he ended up on his rear in the grass, glaring up at the demon, unsure of what emotions he was feeling. Shock, fear, anger, Dean felt it all, but the one thing filling his mind were the words 'she is going to kill you.'

 

“Dean, Dean, Dean. You know what comes next, don't you?” She coos, tilting her head and stepping forward, looking fondly at the small blade and crouching down over the man, her eyes now a black as night. The demon tilted her head, her blond locks of hair swaying slightly as she pressed the cold metal into the hunter's throat and grinned. “The king will be very happy with this. I'll be rewarded for killing you.”

 

Dean glowered up at the demon and swallowed a breath, moving his leg a bit and promptly kicking her off of him and back onto the road. The male scrambled to get up and rushed back to his car as soon as he'd gotten his footing. He was lightheaded from blood-loss now, and he'd barely gotten the door of the Impala open before crashing down into the seat, a crushing weight against his back.

 

Dean's face slammed into the cup-holder, and he could feel a hand in his hair, pulling it roughly. Then there was a knife at his throat. Dean gulped and struggled as best he could, but the weight on his back was too much. There was no way that small woman could hold him down, but here he was, pinned under her, his life flashing before his eyes.

 

After that he'd begun to fade from the blood-loss, and all he could remember was a flash of white... And an oddly familiar voice saying “Hello, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I like to imagine all cross roads' demons looking like prostitutes... Anyways, thanks for all of these kudos guys! They make me super happy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be done yesterday, but I got caught up (meaning I was being a lazy bum) with something (American Horror Story). I'm trying to upload my new chapter every three days, but I always manage to procrastinate.

The next thing Dean knew he was in an unfamiliar room with the worried face of one Sam Winchester hovering just above him. Blinking a few times to clear his vision, the man shifted on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows and pulling his face away from his brother's. “I ain't sleepin' beauty, man, no need to be so close.” He muttered gruffly, furrowing his brows and sitting up with a groan, instantly aware of the painful throbbing in his skull: a mixture of alcohol and concussion. “Where am I, anyways? Where's Baby?”

 

At this Sam smiles, his eyes gleaming a bit in the light of the room. “You could have been killed Dean, and the first thing you ask about is the car?!” He asks, giving an incredulous expression and sitting down in the chair by the bedside to give Dean some space to breathe. “Are _you_ okay, Dean? From what I hear, and from, uh, what I can see, you got pretty beat up.” Sam gestures to his brother -all of his brother- and cringes a little, his lips pressing into a firm line.

 

The older takes a moment and glances over what he can see of his body. Then he grins. “Oh, this? I've had plenty worse, Sammy. Remember when I jumped off that bridge when you were 14? Broke my leg, shoulder and three ribs! This is just a couple scratches; no biggie.” Dean brushes his fingers over a rather dark bruise and raises a brow. “But... Uh... What exactly happened anyways?” He asks, looking over at the man he hadn't seen in over two years and taking in the huge changes.

 

Sam honestly looked good. The kid he'd known had matured a lot, and saying he was attractive would be a bit of an understatement. Sam's jawline was much stronger now, and his scruff was much more noticeable; the man had obviously been working out too. He was beyond fit, so the only thing that Dean could find wrong with his appearance was his shaggy brown hair. It looked like it hadn't been trimmed in years (probably because it hadn't).

 

“Mmm..” Sam scowls and rubs a hand across the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows crinkled together. “Maybe Cas should explain that...” He mutters, hiding his face behind a curtain of silky brown hair and staring at his feet. That was shame, Dean was sure of it. Despite growing so much Sam Winchester still had the same puppy dog eyes, and he would still stare at the ground when he felt guilty. Maybe the body had changed, but the body language had not.

 

Honestly, Sam knew Cas shouldn't have the be the one to explain what had happened, since it wasn't his idea to wipe Dean's memories of hunting in the first place, but, somehow he hoped that, considering the man had just saved his life, Dean would take the news better from him.

 

Raising a brow, Dean pushes himself up and leans against the headboard of the bed, propping a couple pillows up behind his back and looking around the room. “Cas?” He asks, somewhat taken aback by how familiar the name feels on his tongue. “Who's th-?” The ex-hunter's question is cut off by the sound of feathers rustling, and a man appears not a moment later. Dean looks him over, taking in the unkempt black hair and the bluest eyes he's ever seen. The man wears a tan trench coat with a white blazer beneath it; he has on a pair of black suit pants and a striped blue tie is hanging loosely around his neck. Dean knows instantly that this is Cas; he somehow remembers the man despite not knowing him at all.

 

“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the lord.” The man stares at Dean in a way that would put most people on edge but leaves the hunter feeling rather safe. He turns to Sam and tilts his head a little, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Must _I_ be the one to do this?” He asks sternly, shifting on his foot and looking back towards Dean with an expression of pure concern, his blue eyes boring holes into the man's skin.

 

Sam looks up at the angel, giving a pleading look. “Please,” he takes a breath and runs a hand through his shaggy hair, pushing it behind his ear and standing, “I can't.” He says, turning and walking towards the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

 

The guilt of taking his brother's memories had been weighing on him since day one, but the man had been able to handle it before because he thought his brother was happy. However, he knew now that that wasn't true, since no person who was truly happy would seek out a demon and attempt to make a deal.

 

“Sammy!” Dean finally speaks up, sick of the lack of explanation, and you can hear the anger in his voice. “You get your ass back over here and tell me what is going on!” The man shifts on the bed again and throws the covers to the side, moving to get up but being stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Dean, I will heal you as soon as I'm sure you won't hurt your brother, so please, just stay here for now.” Cas insists, coaxing the ex-hunter gently back into a sitting position and looking over at the younger Winchester with those knowing blue eyes. “You owe Dean an explanation, Sam. I'll be waiting outside; just call if you need me.” With that Castiel vanishes just as quickly as he had appeared, and Sam turns back to his brother, taking a shaky breath.

 

“Dean... I'm so sorry.” He manages, stepping forward slowly and once again taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, fumbling lamely with his hands. “Just, promise me you won't get angry, please.” Sam proceeds with caution and places a still trembling hand over Dean's. His brother pulls away and narrows his eyes, so Sam goes back to rubbing his hands together awkwardly.

 

“No promises, Sammy. Just tell me what's going on, and no beatin' around the bush either.” Dean replies, running his hand over the sheets before giving his brother a very serious look, knowing that what was coming would not likely be pleasant to hear.

 

Sam purses his lips and thinks about how to start. “Remember how two years ago you met Lisa again for the first time?” He asks, already feeling the emotions welling up inside of him.

 

“Yeah. When we were on that road trip. I remember, Sammy.”

 

“Well, it didn't exactly happen the way you remember it, but, I mean, you were so happy. I had never seen you so happy, and I didn't want to ruin it for you.” The younger clenched his fists against his thighs. “So... I, uh... I had Cas erase your memories. You objected to it when I asked, said it wasn't the life for you, but I know you wanted a normal life deep down; I wanted you to feel what I felt those years with Jess.” Sam couldn't look at Dean anymore. His eyes were glued to his shoes, and his knuckles were white against his skin.

 

“Dean, you were, and I still am, a hunter. We traveled together and killed the monsters and demons that found their way into society, and I was happy with that until I saw you with Lisa and Ben.” Again, Sam paused. He could feel the tension in the air, but his brother didn't speak. However, he knew that something within Dean was sparking, and the lack of denial or anger helped Sam continue. “Dean, I only did it because I wanted you to be happy.”

 

“Can you fix my memories, Sam? Can Cas fix them?” That was all Dean asked. He didn't want to talk about the rest just yet; he wanted to pretend that he could still trust his brother and laugh with him for a while.

 

“I'm afraid not.” This voice didn't belong to Sam, but instead to the angel Castiel. “However, if you were to return to hunting some things may gradually come back to you. The things that sparked strong emotion at the time will likely return if you are reminded.” He said, taking a step towards Dean and raising two fingers to the man's forehead.

 

“Dean, I believe Sam only wanted the best for you, and the only reason I went along with it was because I wanted the same. If you would give us a chance to make it right we'd be truly grateful.” Cas closed his eyes and rested his fingers between Dean's brows, healing the wounds he'd sustained before speaking again. “For now, though, this is the most I can do. I will be here when you call.”

 

With that the angel vanishes, and Sam and Dean are left in silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story I'd appreciate kudos. I'm rather insecure with my writing. I've been role-playing for years, but I haven't done fanfiction in a very long time, so I just want to make sure it meets peoples' standards. Also, please let me know of any spelling mistakes. I read over chapters before I post them, but I can't catch everything all of the time. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for my upload schedule.. I'm trying, though. Enjoy!

The next few days passed with minimal disturbance. Dean spent his time exploring the bunker and reading through books about demons and werewolves, while Sam took on cases and kept his distance. Castiel stayed around the bunker to keep an eye on Dean, but the two didn't speak much; Dean blamed him just as much as he did Sam, after all, the angel had decided to do what his brother wanted in the first place. Luckily, Castiel seemed to understand this, and he would only initiate conversation when he needed to, otherwise leaving Dean to himself and letting him explore.

 

Honestly, the ex-hunter was still having a hard time wrapping his head around what had previously been his life. He couldn't quite believe that he'd been raised from Hell by an angel, or that he'd hunted down what Sam had called fairies (perhaps his idea of fairies and Sam's idea of fairies were different.) Dean was keeping an open mind about everything, though, since both his brother and the angel had been so earnest about the situation. This was all way to elaborate to be a joke anyways...

 

Plus, after his conversation with Sam and Castiel, Dean had finally been able to make sense of the odd dreams he'd been having for the past two years. The dreams about beheading vampires and carving up demons, the dreams that had seemed much too real to be simply dreams... Well, now he knew that they were memories of things that he'd actually done.

 

Fuck. Dean had actually chopped off heads and shot people in the heart... That wasn't a relaxing thought. Actually, thinking of those memories in general made him sick, though not for the reasons one would expect. The blood and the guts didn't bother him nearly as much as it probably should have; it was Sam that had him feeling sick.

 

All of the things that had come back to him recently had involved his brother. They'd all revolved around him screwing up and putting Sam in danger; he'd gotten his brother into trouble over and over while trying to do the right thing. The memories made him feel dreadfully incompetent, and Dean honestly wished they'd stop leaking through the dam that held them back.

  

Most of the memories came back when he was reading about certain legends, or when he was having a conversation with Sam and asking him questions, but the bad ones always came to him in dreams.

 

Dean and his brother were both trying very hard (probably too hard) to be a trusting family again, but Dean was obviously reluctant. Sometimes halfway through a civil discussion Dean would just snap, and while on occasion the situation would end up in yelling back and forth, most of the time it ended up in Dean storming off to his room like an angsty teen and slamming his door.

 

Sam understood, though, and left him alone. He'd always apologize to Dean when he'd cooled off too; he knew the whole situation was his fault, so he'd do everything he could to make his brother feel better. Sam would try to compensate for his mistake by bending over backwards for Dean. All of his healthy meals had gone out the window and he was now eating burgers and wings with his brother daily.

 

He'd given his brother images of their family and had bought all kinds of pies; Sam was definitely overcompensating, but Dean wasn't complaining, so he continued using that method.

~~~ 

It was two weeks after his demon-summoning incident that Dean woke with a start. The man had pulled himself from a particularly bad nightmare -one of his memories-, and his mind was reeling. According to his alarm clock it was eight in the morning, but considering the bunker was underground it was still pitch black without the lights. This was the worst of the memories so far; it took the gold. Not even the memory of his his brother bloody and bruised, tied to a wooden post beat this one.

 

Dean sat himself up with shaky hands. He was completely drenched in sweat, but he felt unbelievably cold. The man sat there with wide eyes, the image of his father lying dead on a hospital floor seemingly carved into his vision. No matter how hard the man rubbed his eyes, no matter how tightly he closed them, the image wouldn't fade. It was his fault... His father's death was all his fault.

 

His father had died because of him; his father had died to _save_ him.

 

_His father had been killed by the same demon that killed his mother._

 

The ex-hunter tried to breathe, but his breath wouldn't come in anything but shallow gasps. Sweat dripped down the man's nape soaking into the collar of his T-shirt, and his body felt like it was on fire but freezing at the same time. Dean's chest was burning with the lack of oxygen, and his head was swimming. John Winchester, the man who had raised him, the man who had taught him to fight for himself, had given up his life to save Dean, knowing full well that his soul would be taken to Hell by the same monster that had killed his wife years before.

 

And Dean... Just weeks ago...

 

He'd summoned a demon for his own selfish desire. His father had died a noble death, and he had tarnished that by calling upon a demon simply to figure out what was causing him to feel so out of place. He was nothing but selfish.

 

The realization that he couldn't breathe brought Dean back to reality, and he threw the blankets off of his lap with the little strength he had left, stumbling out of bed and collapsing onto the tile floor as the room spun violently around him.

 

“ _Cas.... Cas!”_

 

Dean couldn't recall if he'd actually called aloud or not, but the angel was there in an instant, and the lights in the room were on. And, despite the fact that the world was spinning around him, despite the fact that he couldn't breathe, Dean relaxed at the sight of Castiel; he relaxed as those blue eyes opened wide with worry; he relaxed at the sight of massive obsidian wings spreading around him, and he passed out as two fingers pressed against his forehead.

~~~

It was only an hour later when Dean woke, and he found the angel still by his side, sitting at the end of his bed and staring at the wall. The ex-hunter groaned under his breath and Castiel looked over, concern written all over his face. Dean shifted and sat up, feeling a dull ache in his chest. “Cas... I don't think I can do this.” He said in a low, cracked voice, raking a hand through his hair as the earlier events came rushing back to him.

 

“Dad is dead because of me, Cas...”

 

The angel looked over Dean and sighed, deciding to move a bit closer and gently resting his hand over the ex-hunter's. He sat by the man's torso and trailed over him with his striking blue eyes, taking in the brokenness that was Dean Winchester. “It isn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything to stop it, so don't dwell on it.” He said in a soft voice, his eyes meeting Dean's and his fingers curling around his hand.

 

The ex-hunter shook his head but didn't pull away from the angel. “No, man. Dad died to save my life... And I.. I almost made that sacrifice useless.” Dean furrowed his brows and broke the eye contact, staring at the angel's hand as it covered his own. “I can't do this... I can't go back to how it was. You and Sam, you messed me up. I could deal with this shit before, but now I can't take it.”

 

The angel lowered his own gaze, trying to think of something good to say. “Dean... I'm sorry, and I know you realize that I am. Sam is sorry too, and he is trying so hard to fix it.”

 

“He can't fix it, Cas. Nothing he could ever do would make me trust him again. Nothing.” Now Dean pulled his hand away, and he let out a chocked breath.

 

The angel just nodded and ran his fingers over the blanket. “I... Am not very good with comforting people, Dean. Heaven is very different from Earth, and angels don't feel emotion like humans. But,” Castiel trailed off for a moment, turning a bit to face Dean, “I can tell you are hurting, and I want you to know that I am always going to be here to listen to you.”

 

Dean stayed silent and Castiel continued. “I don't know if you'll ever remember this or not, but you need to know that you and I are bonded. You... Died after making a deal with a demon to save your brother, and I was sent to Hell to rescue your soul. You were a noble man who deserved rescuing, Dean.”

 

Dean looked up from the sheets and met Cas's eyes. He knew this. He'd remembered a lot about Castiel. The man nodded.

 

“Dean, the only reason your memories are not completely wiped out is because you have some of my grace, my power, inside of you. Sam isn't aware of this, but there is a chance that you could regain all of your memories. It is not something that I can heal instantly, but if you let the memories come back it will be easier for me to restore them fully.”

 

Dean sighed and gave the angel a sad look. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hunt again or not. He didn't want to leave Lisa and Ben alone again.

 

Lisa and Ben were his family too; Dean loved them. “Cas!”

 

The ex-hunter sat straight up and began kicking the covers off, forcing the angel to stand and leaving him with a rather confused look. “I need to see Lisa and Ben! It's been over two weeks; they must be worried sick!” Dean said hurriedly, already rushing to put on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, fumbling with his belt and glancing around for his shoes.

 

When he was halfway done with the buttons Cas rested a hand on his shoulder, clearing his throat. Dean looked up from his shirt, his look of panic fading quickly when he realized the angel had already thought of them.

 

“No need to rush, Dean. Lisa already knows of your life as a hunter. I visited her and told her what had happened. She and Ben are both fine, and you can visit them whenever you'd like.” the angel said, dropping his hand back down to his side and raising his eyebrows to give the ex-hunter a sincere look.

 

“I need to see them now, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll edit it... At some point. Thank you for reading, and thank you all for the kudos and bookmarks!


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